Embracing Your Inner Hero – Letting Go of Pedestals and Finding Your Way
Hi Friends,
I don’t know about you, but the world has felt like a pretty intense place to live lately.
Maybe it’s left you questioning who to trust.
Who to look up to.
Who to admire.
And it’s reminded me of a few conversations I’ve been having about the deeper human longing to feel anchored in something steady.
One person I was speaking with shared that they grew up in a very religious family, with strong ties to the church. Over time, the “blind faith” they’d been taught to have started to feel misaligned, and because of that, they said they don’t think they’ll ever be able to trust like that again. And I understood what they meant. When trust has been weaponized, demanded, or tied to obedience without question, it makes sense that something inside us tightens. It makes sense that we become cautious, even skeptical, about anything that asks us to hand ourselves over.
What I offered back was this: Maybe it’s not about putting blind faith in anything outside of ourselves. Maybe it’s about building that faith within. To let trust become less about anything man-made, and more about nurturing the connection we have with ourselves. The quieter, slower kind of trust that’s built over time. The kind that doesn’t require us to bypass our discernment in the name of certainty.
It’s about learning to get in touch, more deeply, with who we are underneath the labels, roles, expectations, and stories we were taught to carry. And having faith in that.
Faith that we can make aligned choices, even when other people disagree.
Faith that we can navigate what unfolds when we move in the direction of our core values.
Faith that we can come home to ourselves again and again, even when we get pulled off course.
It makes me think of Carl Jung’s words:
“One cannot live the afternoon of life according to the program of life's morning; for what was great in the morning will be of little importance in the evening, and what in the morning was true will at evening become a lie.”
I love this reminder because it speaks to something so human: we evolve. We outgrow. We revise. And if we’re living honestly, our beliefs and priorities will shift as we learn more about who we are.
Which brings me to the point that matters most here. Any truly ethical guide — a coach, therapist, mentor, teacher — won’t want you to put them on a pedestal. They won’t want your blind faith. They won’t want you to follow them instead of yourself or to confuse their voice with your own inner knowing.
What they want, if they’re doing their work with integrity, is for you to find your way. As a coach, I can offer support, reflective questions, tools, and perspective, but it’s not about me showing you the path. It’s about walking alongside you while you find your way, so you know you’re not doing it alone.
When the world feels so messy, exhausting, and uncertain, it makes sense that we’d want to find people to look up to…people who seem to know the way. So, I also understand the disappointment, disillusionment, and shock that many of us are feeling with some of the leaders in our world. Who are we supposed to admire when our heroes disappoint us or fall from grace?
Maybe part of the answer is this:
What if we learn to be our own hero?
Not in the “do it all alone, never need anyone” kind of way. But in the way that says:
I won’t hand over my power when I feel afraid.
I won’t abandon my discernment because I want certainty.
I won’t turn someone into a symbol and then feel shattered when they reveal their humanity.
It can be hard to remember that we don’t actually know people in their entirety, especially from afar. We see what they show and what we want to believe. And often, we project onto them what we need them to represent. And while it’s natural to admire others, it’s worth noticing when admiration turns into pedestal-building…when their voice, way, or approval starts to carry more weight than our own.
Maybe the more grounded approach is to appreciate the specific things someone has done. To learn from what resonates, and let it clarify our values. But not to collapse our inner knowing into their image.
Because this life can feel chaotic, confusing, and lonely sometimes. And it’s tempting to want someone, anyone, to give us the answers. But that’s often our nervous system looking for certainty where certainty can’t be guaranteed. There is no guru, no leader, no guide who can live your life for you, or know your right next step the way you can.
Support matters, community matters, and mentorship can be beautiful. But the goal isn’t to find someone to follow. The goal is to strengthen the relationship you have with yourself, so you can walk forward with steadiness, even when the world feels loud.
If you’re noticing that you’re putting someone on a pedestal — a leader, mentor, partner, parent, or even a version of yourself you’re trying to become — here are a few grounded places to begin:
Name what you’re hoping they’ll give you: Is it safety? Certainty? Permission? Belonging? A sense of direction?
Separate the person from the value: Instead of “I want to be like them,” ask: What quality do I respect here? What value is this pointing me toward?
Notice where you abandon yourself: Where do you dismiss your own instincts because someone else seems more confident?
Practice “borrow, don’t surrender:” Let others inspire you, without handing them the steering wheel.
Come back to your body before you decide: Not as a demand for instant clarity, but as a way to hear what’s true underneath the noise. Tight jaw, racing thoughts, a stomach drop, heaviness… these aren’t problems to fix. They’re information.
Ask the question that rebuilds self-trust: If I trusted myself 5% more today, what would I do next?
If you’ve been feeling disillusioned lately…if the world feels shaky, or people you once admired no longer feel safe to hold up, I just want to say, it makes sense.
And it can also be an invitation…to come home to the steady kind of trust that doesn’t depend on anyone being perfect.
To become someone you can rely on, the one who stays, the one who listens inward.
To keep choosing alignment — even when it’s inconvenient, tender, or slow.
This is part of the journey back to yourself.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Christina
